Steve Robison, Author, Writer, Poet

The secret of secrets as sung by the hawk

May 18, 2005

Last night I wandered through the muck of dissension, My legs grew weary by the constancy of the mud. My heart wanted to stop and rest for a while, But my spirit knew the journeys that lied ahead...

So onward I trudged through the unwandered peril, And the clouds were broken by the light of the night. The moon showed the way to the pond of the ages, The sage that I sought would share his song this night...

Lost was I, in the reflection in the muddled waters, Wandering about through the muck of my thoughts. Were it not for the spark of the hope of my meeting, I would likely have missed the whisper of the hawk...

The hawk, the sage, the voice of the ages, Created a ripple in the murk of my mind. I was awakened with a start, and, a beat of my heart, And stillness surrounded the engulfing fog of doubt...

In an instant I knew the truth he was speaking, The heart knows the truth when the mind goes astray. I promised the waters I would not lose the melody, I vowed that the song I would sing from my heart...

The song arose in the night through the ripples, And the song found a home in my heart...

What we desire to hold in our hearts as so dear... What we long to remember in our minds ever clear... That which our spirits grasp and hold and pull near... Draw close and I'll tell you and the child will hear...

The secret of secrets is so simple and yet vague... It will leave for an instant, be dismissed for an age... The secret to seeking the love we so need... Is that only they who give will sow the seed...

And the seed is given life by the one who loves all... And it need be but planted for the love to grow tall... So plant your love by night and by day... The fruits that spring forth will nourish along the way.